


Talk Like I Care

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Day Two, Feels, Fluff, Homophobia, Homophobic Arsehole of an OC, I want to slap this bitch after I'm done with him, LITTLE BIT OF SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, M/M, OC, Victuuri Week, Victuuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The competition season is coming to an end, and Viktor and Yuuri’s last stop brings them to the World Figure Skating Championships in Helsinki, the capitol of Finland. For the first time since he’s become Yuuri’s coach, Viktor finally feels life is now worth living for. Come Axel Smirnov, a Russian figure skater who doesn’t at all appreciate the fact that his opponent is gay and has been allowed to compete against him. Will Viktor be able to gain the confidence needed to bring home the gold medal?





	

Yuuri’s lived in Hasetsu his whole life, but he’s never seen anything like this. Neither has Viktor, who’s eyes are blown open to reveal his signature gleaming turquoise eyes.

“I-I’ve never seen any place like this, before. Even in Hasetsu, the weather’s never as nice as this!” Yuuri murmured, still recovering from the aftershock of arriving in Helsinki. He was standing at the doors along with Viktor, holding his gloved hand.

“Yuuri, I’m the one that should be talking. Look at this! The sun never appears like this in St. Petersburg. Tell me, what did we do to deserve this?” exclaims Viktor, who’s practically jumping on Yuuri and blushing madly. 

After the two of them have the chance to enjoy the weather in Helsinki for a bit, they head to their reserved hotel to check in. As soon as they unlock their room, Yuuri’s the first to collapse, falling face flat into the neat array of pillows the hotel staff has set for them. Viktor follows him, falling beside Yuuri to face him in the eye. Out of nowhere the dark-haired man gives a little laugh, shutting his eyes and smiling without giving a damn. Confused, Viktor sweeps Yuuri’s bangs out of his face and gives him a concerned look.

“Yuuri, is there anything wrong? Are you hurt, anywhere?!” 

Immediately Yuuri reverts back to his normal expression, except more serious. 

“Ah, no! It’s just—getting to compete with you on the same ice…it’s nerve-wracking for me, but at the same time I feel insanely happy,” he stumbles. “It’s always been my dream to compete with you, to stand as your equal.”

He sighs and closes his eyes once more, letting his exhaustion take over but still clearly awake. The older man lets out a chuckle and throws his entire arm over Yuuri, leaning in to breathe in the familiar scent of faint ocean breezes and lilac. He never wants to get out of the position again.

“I don’t know if you know this, Yuuri, but I feel the exact same way. To be able to compete against the one I love, it’s exhilarating. Ever since you came into my life drunk and horny, you made me rediscover my love for ice skating. You breathed life into me when I didn’t know what it was,” Viktor mumbles into his husband’s shoulder. He laughs when he feels Yuuri’s skin heating up profusely, amused at his embarrassment. A calloused hand grabs the collar of his dress shirt and pulls him forward. He’s face to face with a tomato-red Yuuri, a slightly embarrassed but sensual look in his eyes.

“Did you really have to mention the drunk and horny part?”

“That’s why I fell in love you, after all,” Viktor says, kissing his lover’s fingertips one by one to show his daily affection.

“Mm,” the shorter man utters. Viktor starts to notice his drooping eyes and glasses that have fallen off his face. Taking off the glasses and putting them on the stand, he presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead lovingly.

“Yuuri?”

“Hm?” Yuuri yawns, desperately trying to stay awake to hear Viktor properly.

Viktor pulls up the blankets to cover both him and Yuuri, finally getting to shut his eyes and give in to sleep.

“See you next level,” he barely says, and after a few minutes becomes dead to the world.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but Viktor is fidgety as fuck and doesn’t know why.

Viktor hasn’t felt this nervous since his first major performance at 16. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been able to skate since he became Yuuri’s coach, not to mention he was busy being infatuated with him. The feeling of doubt and anxiety hits him like a bus, and he starts to sympathize for Yuuri. 

That reminds him, where is Yuuri?

He whips his head around, nervousness slowly starting to creep and settle in. Viktor’s eyes scan the entire rink but nowhere does he see the familiar blue glasses and dark mop of hair he loves. He’s getting more and more anxious by the minute, his breaths getting shorter each time he breathes. 

It’s nothing, Viktor. Don’t get yourself so worked over it. Yuuri’s probably somewhere else…warming up! Yes, that’s what he’s doing. Where else?

The figure skater’s so dazed by his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice the rather hard tap on his shoulder. Turning around to see who was responsible for it, Viktor sees in front of him a fellow ice skater. With brownish-blond hair slicked back in a wavy fashion, transparent blue eyes with no gleam, and a particularly tall nose and strong facial features, Viktor suspects him to be part of the Russian team as well. His right hand is placed firmly on his hip as if to secure his position, and a not-so-genuine smile is plastered on his face. 

“Ah, Viktor Nikiforov! I was wondering when I’d be able to see you here in person. I’ve heard of your talent and I must say I’m quite honored to be here. Axel Smirnov, aspiring figure skater and two-time silver medalist in the World Championships,” the man says with an annoying air of arrogance surrounding him. Viktor’s already prepared to get away from him when Axel moves a few feet closer to him, getting ready to ask another question.

“So I heard you brought company today and that they’re also competing here with us today. You know, I never heard anything about you having a wife already. Is she on the women’s team over there,” Axel inquired further, pointing to the group of female skaters on the other side of the arena. 

Let’s just say that at this point, Viktor was about to slap this heteronormative son-of-a-bitch. 

“Look, I guess I’m proud of you for having made it onto the Russian skating team. But it’s completely none of your business when it comes to my husband and I’s personal life. You do realize that as a professional figure skater, it’s not our job to go around showing our silver medals and all, right?” the platinum-blond hair man grounds out, trying to bite back his sarcasm in order to keep the peace between them. Not only would it not help for him to be nervous, but it also wouldn’t help if he happened got one of the Russian skaters pissed at him.

The other Russian skater laughs, a mocking tone in his voice suggesting a lack of genuineness. His hands slack at his sides and he backs away all of a sudden, a look of disgust and amusement in his face.

“Amazing! I didn’t know the World Championships finally decided to let homos participate. Honestly, I’d thought they were too weak to even compete. Tell me, where is that husband of yours? Too embarrassed to show up like a real man and face us? HAH! Pathetic,” Axel spits, his face glowing with furious red.

This. Fucking. Bastard.

How the actual shit, did this guy think he could insult Yuuri? His own husband for fucks’ sake! Viktor was clenching his nails deeply into his hands, drawing minuscule drops of blood from just looking at this man. No longer was he angry, oh no, not even close. He was infuriated with rage.

“Now who the actual fu—”

“I almost feel bad for the Russian team. Too bad they can’t have a legendary skater on their team that is straight. It just ruins the whole tradition, does it not? A shame we can’t have normal skaters competing for u—”

“Axel Smirnov, you are automatically disqualified for discriminatory talk against fellow skaters.”

As soon as those words were uttered, Viktor couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. First, his Yuuri, absolutely stone-faced, and second, one of the panel judges.

“You’re kidding, right?! You’re letting this homo and his fuck buddy compete—”

“Enough,” seethed Yuuri, who set out to put his elbow on Viktor’s shoulder. “Surely you don’t want to be scandalized by the media for having insulted two gold medalists, one of them being a five-time consecutive GPF winner?, now do you?” retorted Yuuri, his own anger showing on his face.

The panel judge that gave Smirnov his disqualification led him away, followed by a string of rather filthy curses. As soon as the two were five feet away, Yuuri nearly lunged at Viktor, bringing him into a sentimental hug to comfort the both of them.

“Get on that damn ice, and show that bastard who the real champion is,” his husband spat.

Viktor Nikiforov had a total of 4 jumps planned in his program. Perhaps it was suicide to do this, but he had to exert himself, push himself over the edge so far that he would collapse.

So as to shatter the record, he planned to do a total of 6 jumps, not only a nightmare for a figure skater but unbelievable for someone who’d just returned to figure skating after such a long time. If he screwed up all of his jumps, his career as of right now would be destroyed, eliminated. Not to mention Yuuri would be dragged into the mess as well.

He was on his 5th jump now, about to do a triple lutz. Viktor’s legs were burning from the inside out. His muscles were screaming to be relieved, while drool dribbled out from the corners of his mouth. Sure he wasn’t a pretty sight to see, but all that mattered was this. His skating, his pride. 

His love for Yuuri.

Just as Yuuri had done all those months ago, he planned to defend and showcase his love for Yuuri not just to that homophobic bastard, but to anyone who thought otherwise of his relationship. He wanted to show that his love was valid, and deserved to be seen as such.

The time came for him to jump, and he leaped, hoping that the landing qualified enough to pass as one. The seconds in the air seemed to be stretched to eternity as gravity drew him down.

Viktor landed the jump, now on to his final jump, the quadruple axel.

The rink was like hell for him right now. Fat drops of sweat rolled down his forehead, causing his platinum blond bangs to stick messily to his skin. Goddamn this routine and everything else. His stamina was already weak when he was skating. When he’d taken the break, it had just gotten weaker. The lack of endurance would show in his final jump, with or without preparation. There was no way he would land it without some mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri appeared, standing at the edge of the rink.

He was screaming his name out, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. His hair was beautiful slicked back but his glasses remained. 

“VIKTOR! FOR THE LOVE OF KATSUDON WIN THAT GOLD MEDAL FOR ME!” the man kept yelling repeatedly without end. Was it just his eyes, or was the entire crowd around him cheering for him as well?

Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.

His name was chanted inside Viktor’s head like a prayer, needy and desperate.

Yuuri, I’ll do for you what you once did to me. 

His feet turned, getting ready to jump for the quadruple axel.

You’re what made me realize what I have to live for.`

Forcing his body to rotate faster, he spun for the few seconds he had to in the air, seeing only blurred visions of his surroundings.

You. I want to show the whole world that I love you and that there is nothing wrong with that.

The tip of his toe touched the ice for a split second, and relief washed over Viktor like a riptide. He landed safely, his legs begging him to stop already. Nothing mattered, nothing else in this rink mattered. He kept going, knowing that it was going to wreck him later but ignored the consequences. An excruciating throb in his calves threatened to make him collapse, but as he heard the last note of his piece end, Viktor skated to the middle of the rink and kneeled down as a final gesture unplanned in his routine.

Horrible, disturbing silence flooded the rink, filling Viktor with an absolute sense of dread. Had he screwed up one of his jumps? His mind wandered to his second jump he’d planned for the routine, in which he’d messed up the footing.

The silent scribble of the judges’ pens and murmurs were the only sounds he heard, other than the fatal pulse of his heart. 

The numbers on the TV screen in front of him appeared in bright LED.

Viktor Nikiforov - 330.45

He, Viktor Nikiforov, had just surpassed the World Figure Skating Championships record by two-hundredths of a decimal.

“VIKTOR!”

His husband’s voice rang out as the only sound in the rink, causing Viktor to whip around to face him. Yuuri’s mop of black hair flew messily in the air as he skated towards him, having borrowed a pair of skates it seemed. 

“Yu—”

In five seconds he was on the ice, having been tackled by Yuuri and causing the both of them to fall. The crowd around them cheered endlessly, for what reason, Viktor never knew.

“I-I…You nearly killed yourself out there, to show you loved me. Wh—”

“Why?” the taller man asked jokingly, sliding his fingers through his sweat-streaked hair. A flirty smirk tugged at his sensuous lips.

“Because I wouldn’t kiss it if it wasn’t gold, what else?”

“Idiot. Tell me the truth.”

The couple’s laughter made them cling closer to each other, not caring if anyone else saw.

“Because that jerk needs to see me beat his ass and kiss my husband at the same time.”

And Viktor did, crashing his lips against Yuuri’s in a winning kiss. In his peripheral vision he spotted Axel, leaning by the exit masked by a dark hoodie. His eyes held no gleam, instead heated hatred for the two.

Both Viktor and Yuuri held up the middle finger in retaliation, continuing to kiss as sweaty and wrecked as they were.

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was one of my hardest fanfics to write, regarding the homophobia.
> 
> I spent a few long minutes debating whether I should use the common gay slur in this, but opted for homo just in case anyone who has suffered because of this word does read this. I wanted to portray this couple in a place where homophobia can happen, in that case, ice skating. Many male ice skaters are often portrayed as gay in the media, and I wanted to try writing about them in this light.
> 
> Comments are welcome!


End file.
